I woke up with a not so pleasant head/face ache this morning, the kind that comes from needing a root canal but not having the time, money, or patience to have it done, so I drugged myself up on enough ibuprofen to kill a horse, put Elmo on the lowest volume Felicity would let me get away with, and waited for said drugs to temporarily alleviate the problem. Then I got smart and called my dentist.
That's when the fun began.
I let the dogs out of their cages to help entertain Felicity while I made a less than five minute phone call. That idea is now officially stored in the "ill-advised" section of my mental library. When I returned to the living room I found the KickStart (a rather large energy drink) poured all over my area rug, enough dog poop to justify hiring a kennel worker, and Felicity was tearing the back off of the book her grandma just bought her.
I was livid.
I called my husband just to rant about the not so nice way my day was starting out, but had to get off the phone because our daughter was IN the toilet. Not just her hand or a random toy, no no, that is far too civilized for our child. She was actually leaning over and INTO the toilet. Her. hair. had. toilet. water. in. it. Aside from being repulsed I had one solitary thought;
That's it, it's set in stone; today is the day I snap and go on a toddler induced warpath.
After cleaning toilet water off of our daughter who, to my surprise, was still absolutely adorable to me, I decided to put dinner in the crockpot. Mmmmm roast. There's one thing you must understand about me; I'm only an inch or two too tall to be classified as a little person. This means I can't reach half of my kitchen without the assistance of a chair. So, I pull a chair over to the cabinet, climb on up, I'm mid reach, and do you know what that adorable little blessing from God does? She rams her Minnie Mouse car into the chair I'm currently on so hard that I lost my footing, my knee hits the lazy susan, and I bit my tongue. OH FOR THE LOVE OF PETE WILL SOMEONE CALL A TIMEOUT?
After tending to my wounds, I get the roast put in the crockpot and go to season it only to find that I'm out of onion soup mix (which is a must for yummy roast). This is odd because it comes in packages of two and I know I've only used one. The word know is in italics above because knowing something as a mommy of a little one is never knowing something with the kind of certainty you were capable of before mommyhood set in. I believe this is due to what can only be described as chronic brain fog. Lord only knows where the 2nd package of soup mix is. Probably hidden in Felicity's room somewhere with the 2 pairs of her shoes I can't find, all of her missing binkies, and the raisins that mysteriously disappeared after I told her she couldn't have anymore.
Eventually nap time rolled around so I went to gather the beautiful little human I get to call my daughter and she threw a fit that more closely resembled a baby apocalypse than a fit. The tears were real, the kicks were strong, and she was not growing tired. The force is strong with that one. Once all of her shenanigans were over and she was asleep I couldn't help but smile. It's funny how silence changes things, isn't it? 20 minutes prior my thoughts were filled with enough curse words to make a sailor blush and just like that, I was brought back to a calming reality. The simple truth is this; Fits stink. Bad days suck. But grace prevails.
There are no less than 10 times a day that God shows me grace for everything from speaking disrespectfully to my husband to not watching what I put in my body to not giving Him my undivided attention when He calls for it. So, why am I so quick to receive His grace, but so slow to dish up even a small serving of it to someone else? Especially when that someone is almost always someone I love and care dearly for? Because I'm a flawed, broken, sinful, human. And sometimes my mind and flesh work against my heart and soul. The beauty in this is that I'm capable of change.
“Grace is a system of living whereby God blesses us because we are in Jesus Christ, and for no other reason at all.” ~Steve McVey
Today I am extra thankful that I serve such a gracious God who is teaching me to be gracious too. Even if He teaches me via a toilet water soaked toddler and bodily injuries.
That's when the fun began.
I let the dogs out of their cages to help entertain Felicity while I made a less than five minute phone call. That idea is now officially stored in the "ill-advised" section of my mental library. When I returned to the living room I found the KickStart (a rather large energy drink) poured all over my area rug, enough dog poop to justify hiring a kennel worker, and Felicity was tearing the back off of the book her grandma just bought her.
I was livid.
I called my husband just to rant about the not so nice way my day was starting out, but had to get off the phone because our daughter was IN the toilet. Not just her hand or a random toy, no no, that is far too civilized for our child. She was actually leaning over and INTO the toilet. Her. hair. had. toilet. water. in. it. Aside from being repulsed I had one solitary thought;
That's it, it's set in stone; today is the day I snap and go on a toddler induced warpath.
After cleaning toilet water off of our daughter who, to my surprise, was still absolutely adorable to me, I decided to put dinner in the crockpot. Mmmmm roast. There's one thing you must understand about me; I'm only an inch or two too tall to be classified as a little person. This means I can't reach half of my kitchen without the assistance of a chair. So, I pull a chair over to the cabinet, climb on up, I'm mid reach, and do you know what that adorable little blessing from God does? She rams her Minnie Mouse car into the chair I'm currently on so hard that I lost my footing, my knee hits the lazy susan, and I bit my tongue. OH FOR THE LOVE OF PETE WILL SOMEONE CALL A TIMEOUT?
After tending to my wounds, I get the roast put in the crockpot and go to season it only to find that I'm out of onion soup mix (which is a must for yummy roast). This is odd because it comes in packages of two and I know I've only used one. The word know is in italics above because knowing something as a mommy of a little one is never knowing something with the kind of certainty you were capable of before mommyhood set in. I believe this is due to what can only be described as chronic brain fog. Lord only knows where the 2nd package of soup mix is. Probably hidden in Felicity's room somewhere with the 2 pairs of her shoes I can't find, all of her missing binkies, and the raisins that mysteriously disappeared after I told her she couldn't have anymore.
Eventually nap time rolled around so I went to gather the beautiful little human I get to call my daughter and she threw a fit that more closely resembled a baby apocalypse than a fit. The tears were real, the kicks were strong, and she was not growing tired. The force is strong with that one. Once all of her shenanigans were over and she was asleep I couldn't help but smile. It's funny how silence changes things, isn't it? 20 minutes prior my thoughts were filled with enough curse words to make a sailor blush and just like that, I was brought back to a calming reality. The simple truth is this; Fits stink. Bad days suck. But grace prevails.
There are no less than 10 times a day that God shows me grace for everything from speaking disrespectfully to my husband to not watching what I put in my body to not giving Him my undivided attention when He calls for it. So, why am I so quick to receive His grace, but so slow to dish up even a small serving of it to someone else? Especially when that someone is almost always someone I love and care dearly for? Because I'm a flawed, broken, sinful, human. And sometimes my mind and flesh work against my heart and soul. The beauty in this is that I'm capable of change.
“Grace is a system of living whereby God blesses us because we are in Jesus Christ, and for no other reason at all.” ~Steve McVey
Today I am extra thankful that I serve such a gracious God who is teaching me to be gracious too. Even if He teaches me via a toilet water soaked toddler and bodily injuries.